


253 - Dog Shelters & Good Guy Bob

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 15:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompts “Meet where you work in a dog/ animal shelter and meet van/ bob there?” and “you’re kinda close with Bob because you’re so similar (don’t drink often/ smoke) and people sometimes think you’re with him instead of Van??” and “one about buying a dog with van? I think it would be adorable like going to pick the puppies and van getting excited”





	253 - Dog Shelters & Good Guy Bob

Bob Hall was easily one of the most beautiful people you had ever met. There was not a single thing about him that you didn't like. He even parked his car like an angel. You were vacantly staring out the front window as he pulled up. The Windex was running down the glass as you were spacing out. The sound of his car dragged you down to earth and you watched him reverse into the park the furthest from the animal shelter front doors.

At the front desk, he asked for you, and you quickly cleaned the last of the window before walking over. He held his hand out and smiled. His dimples were beautiful and all his fuzzy hair pulled into a bun reminded you of a Bichon Frise left to grow.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah, hi, Bob. Thank you for coming. Scott said you might be able to help us out?"

The animal shelter had saved a couple of litters of kittens and a few factory farmed chicken. Usually, you'd drag your cousin Scott in to take photos of the happier and healed animals. He was good with the camera and worked for you for free. But, he was working abroad doing some lighting for a friend's band, so he sent Bob to you. Scott had promised he was equally, if not better, at taking photos, and owed Scott a favour.

"Try to get his personality," you whispered from behind Bob as he struggled to take a semi-decent shot of the bigger of the three chickens. He looked back at you and it was clear he couldn't tell if you were joking or not. You weren't sure either. "He's a sassy chicken," you clarified.

Once the chickens were photographed and safely outside in their huge pen, Bob became more talkative. He liked the kittens and talked to them in baby babble.

"Look at your spots!" he exclaimed to one, picking her up and patting her gently. The kitten meowed happily and reached up to paw at Bob's face.

As he worked and you assisted, your curiosity got the better of you.

"Can I ask you something?" you said. Bob didn't take his eyes off the chocolate brown kitten walking along the bench being used as a photo shoot studio.

"This one should be named Cadbury," Bob replied, then looked over at you. "Sorry. Yeah. Go for it,"

"Well, I got two questions. First is why you parked so far away from the door when there was other spots closer,"

"People carry animals in. I just had a camera," he replied, tracking the movements of Cadbury. You suspected Cadbury was his favourite.

"And why do you owe Scott a favour?" you asked.

Bob stood up straight and looked at you after that. He grinned and you could have sworn you saw the beginnings of blushing. He lifted Cadbury from the bench and put him back in the playpen.

"Long story," he finally said as he picked up a black and white kitten. "I'm losing track of which ones we've done,” 

"Fuck. Sorry. I have a list."

You had tact and respect and could see Bob didn't want to tell you. Probably it was just some stupid boy club bet. You'd asked Scott when he was home.

The rest of the kittens were photographed and completely adored. As Bob left the shelter, you told him he should adopt one. He frowned a sad frown and said he was hardly home enough for an animal, with his band and whatnot.

You watched him cross the carpark and drive away.

"You guys were in there for a while," Andie said from the counter.

It was past closing time but she had waited to leave with you.

"He's a strange guy," you replied.

"Scott only has strange friends," she said with a shrug. Not wrong.

That night you had pizza for dinner and fell asleep more quickly than you usually would. Across the city, Bob Hall was editing photos of kittens and chickens on his laptop, drawing the attention of his friend, who was interested in the girl in the background. With a dramatic roll of the eyes, Bob closed his laptop and walked away. His friend was never good at minding his business and band practice was never ideal for other work.

…

You'd know that fluffy top-knot anywhere, but before you could move to say hi to Bob, the guy next to him grinned like he was the one that knew you. He bumped Bob and pointed in your direction.

"Y/N. Hey!" Bob said.

There was a moment where you weren't sure what to do with your arms and hands. The decision was taken from you and Bob hugged you gently and quickly; it was warm and weirdly appropriate for a situation that probably didn't have a social norm. What do you do when you see your borrowed chicken photographer in a record store?

"Hey, Bob. How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. You good? Like the photos?"

It had been a week and a bit since he'd sent them to you. Already, they were used on the new marketing material for the shelter and the cute little profiles for the animals on the website.

"Yes! They're amazing. I don't understand how you made chickens look… cool… but you did. Thank you again. It's a huge help," you replied.

"No. Easy. Happy to help. Ah, this is Van, by the way. He's in the band, knows Scott," Bob introduced.

You smiled at Van and he smiled back and then you did a strange little wave thing that made absolutely no sense to do but it just kind of happened because Van was looking at you with an equally strange inquisitive expression and it was intense and he was beautiful too but in a different way to Bob and oh God he had little bunny teeth and you almost stopped breathing and did somebody just speak? Fuck.

"Sorry?" you said, realising you had been starring at Van and having an awkward fucking moment, a snowball of thoughts. Van was grinning.

"Cadbury? Been adopted?" Bob repeated.

"Oh! No. Not yet. We did keep his name though. Normally we try not to name the animals or get attached," you replied. Bob nodded. Van stayed quiet. "So, ah, whatcha' doing in here?"

"You might be able to help actually. We looking for some new local bands. Maybe bring a couple on tour with us, you know? Van's idea,"

"Gotta pay it forward, you know?" Van added. You nodded like you understood exactly what he meant, even though you didn't really.

Luckily, you could help. You spent about fifteen minutes searching for EPs among the unsorted chaos of the record store. Van jotted down a few more band names into his phone on your recommendation.

You left them to it, saying a goodbye that was less awkward than its hello counterpart, and caught the next bus home. You were meant to stop at a couple more stores, but felt a weird need to be home. Be in bed. You were all fizzy and strange and tired and hyped up. It was a mess of emotion and sensation that you could even be bothered trying to read.

…

Someone out the back had taken a risk. Evidently, it was a poorly calculated one. Whatever they were doing, it led to three puppies tearing through the front reception area of the shelter. The puppies were yet to be treated for fleas, worms, or anything else they may have come into contact with on the streets before they were brought to you. In the front area was also a greyhound being dropped off after it was deemed useless at the track. Chaos. Utter chaos.

You heard the front doorbell chime and yelled before even turning around, "Shut the door!"

Whoever had walked in burst into giggles as they quickly caught one of the puppies. You caught a second and walked over to him.

"Hey, Bob,"

"Hi, Y/N," he replied.

"You guys put them in their pens. I'll grab the third. He's the scared one," Andie said, getting on all fours to track the puppy under the desk.

Bob followed you out the back.

"I've been trying to call, but couldn't get through. Busy morning?"

"You wouldn't believe. In here is good," you replied. With the puppies safe, you grabbed a lint roller and started on Bob's shirt. He watched you roll up and down his chest.

"Ahhhh?"

"Fur and maybe fleas. Not checked 'em yet," you explained. He nodded and you put the roller down. "Um. Anyway. Hi. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing important. I just met someone the other day that I thought I'd put you in touch with. She's a photographer based here. Doesn't travel as much as Scott or me. She's also into animal rights and stuff. Figured maybe it would be good for you and her to meet?"

Back out the front, Bob waited patiently as you admitted the greyhound and quickly checked the phone messages for emergencies. You kept apologising, but he just shrugged and smiled sunshine back.

Finally his turn in line, Bob showed you the girl's Instagram.

"I would have just messaged you but I don't have your number or anything," he said.

"Here. Have it now and just message me her contact card."

He nodded and you swapped phones and entered your numbers into each other's phones. "There's one other thing. We've got a show on Friday. We aren't advertising it or anything, just a little thing for friends and family. We've got a couple of those bands you told us about to play too. Thought you might want to swing by?"

"Yeah! Yeah, that sounds cool,"

"Alright. I'll message you the info later. And, ah, sorry for dropping by at such a bad time," Bob said, halfway out the door.

"No, no. It's always like this… I'll catch you later,"

"Bye, Y/N."

….

Between chaotic puppies and rescued bunnies and sad greyhound and everything else, there wasn't much time to think about the show. Friday rolled around and you and Andie were eating sandwiches at the reception desk.

"What are you wearing tonight?" she asked

"Huh?"

"Bob's gig. What are you wearing?"

You looked at her like she was speaking a different language. Then, the memory surfaced. "Fuck! I totally forgot! Sam's bringing in all that newspaper tonight, after work. I need to be here,"

"I'll do it," Andie said with a shrug. You eyed her suspiciously. "Y/N, you never go out. Besides… this could be something, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Bob…"

"What?" You almost choked on your sandwich. "It's not like that…"

"Sure. Sure. Whatever you say. You should go anyway," she said in a smug voice that annoyed you.

"I'm not going alone. That would be awkward. I'm awkward enough,"

"Well, I can't come. I've got a hot date with Sam," she replied with a shrug and a laugh. A hot date with the sixty-four-year-old man that collected newspapers wherever he went and delivered them once a month to the shelter.

It was easy to like Bob; he reminded you of Scott, but a sweeter version. It made sense that Andie had mistaken it for something else. Did that mean that Bob had too?

You could have ruminated over that for a long while, but instead your head reminded you of something else. Someone else.

Baby blues.

Bunny teeth.

Soft smiles.

Van McCann.

As you got ready for the show, taking deep breathes periodically to ensure you were in fact still breathing, you realised that you were dressing for Van. You'd only met him once and maybe seen a couple of photos of him floating about the social media landscape, but other than that, you had not a lot to go on. Did he like girls in jeans and band shirts? Or a floral print skater dress? Should you break out the expensive lipstick? Fuck.

In the end and without any hints to guide you, you dressed in your favourite outfit. Well, second to pyjamas. Obviously.

…

Rounding the corner and approaching the small bar, you scanned the group of people milling about out the front. Before you could recognise a face, someone swooped in on you from behind. An arm went around your shoulders and there was a mouth close to your ear, whispering.

"Wondered if you'd come," Van said. For a second you panicked, thinking he had mistaken you for someone else. "But here you are, Y/N. Looking glorious,"

"Ah, hi. Thank you,"

"Can we get you a drink? Did Sideshow tell you 'bout who we got to open?" he asked.

He was leading you inside before you could answer.

It wasn't packed, but it was busy. People watched Van as he walked and it was obvious that they all knew him and loved him. Some were, like Bob said, friends and family. Some were maybe important people for a band to invite. You weren't sure. What you were sure about was the fact that people were assessing you, head to toe. Van was the literal centre of attention, and you were the centre of his.

"What will ya have, love?" Van asked as he leaned across the bar to reach into a bowl of citrus wedges. He fished around for an orange slice and put it in his mouth. A bartender appeared and she looked at Van like you'd look at a puppy who ripped up a box of tissues. Yeah, they shouldn't do it. But hey, at least it's a cute image.

"Ryan. Stop getting your boy germs all over my garnishes," she said, popping the lid off a beer and handing it to him. "Take ya cheap beer and fuck off,"

"You know what, Liv, you know what you are?" he started.

"Olivia. Not Liv,"

"Van, not Ryan. You're like one of them cats that loves their owner, but then the owner goes off to work or a holiday or whatever, then when they get home, the cat is all pissed off and pretends to hate them 'cause they're hurt," Van said. He waited for Liv… Olivia to respond. You could see her mouth twitching. She was trying to not smile.

"And do you know what you are?" she asked him. He shrugged and anticipated the worst. "A daft cunt. Who's this then?"

Van laughed and then focused his attention on you.

"This is Y/N. Guess she's part of the family. You know Scotty? They're cousins. Then Bob took some photos for her work and stuff. And now she's here to see me play," Van explained.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia," she said in a genuinely warm tone. "What will you have?"

With a lemon, lime, and bitters in hand, Van wrapped himself back around you. You let him lead you to a table with two free chairs. He introduced you to his best mate Larry and the singer of one of the opening acts - a band you had told them about.

A little later, the first band played. From your table, you could see the small stage, and when Van stayed put, you did too. It was like musical chairs for the other two places; people came and went and you met more and more interesting people. Bob came over and said hi, said it was good you could make it. You could tell by his casual tone and lack of lingering that Andie was dead wrong. For that, you were grateful.

Conversation with Van was easy. As the bands played, you critiqued them together. You saw the same flaws in the bands and liked the same parts. When you were trying to hold in a giggle or eye roll or gasp or cheer, you'd look over and see Van doing whatever it was you were trying not to. He was beautiful in his authenticity and in his unabashed love for life.

Then, it was time for Van to go get ready for his own set.

"Don't go running off after, yeah? Wanna get ya thoughts," he said. You nodded. As he stood, he lent across and kissed your cheek, then ducked off between people. It took you by surprise and it wasn't until someone plonked themselves down in Van's seat that you started to catch up with time.

"Ryan's got a crush on you," Olivia said with a smirk. "I've known that fuck for, what, like… seven years or so. I know him. And he likes you,"

"No. He doesn't know me,"

"He's the 'love at first sight' type though. Sappy romantic. Was this a date?" she asked.

"No, no. Bob invited me,"

"Right. Probably got asked to. I'd bet money on it. Bob invited you after you met Ryan, yeah?"

"Why do you call him Ryan?" you asked back.

"That's his real name. I'm right though, yeah?"

Instead of answering, because you really weren't sure how to, you looked at the stage as Larry finished taping something to something. He walked off and Van's band walked on. Their set was too loud to talk over, but Olivia stayed at your side and you watched as she sang along. Every now and then, she'd grin at you. At the conclusion of the set, Olivia stood.

"Come on. Time for tradition," she said, holding an arm for you to take.

She passed the bar and grabbed an armful of beers, then lead you through a fire exit out into a dark alley. Another door to it opened, and the boys came out onto the street.

"Olivia!" one of them called. He helped her hand the beers out, then pulled her in close. She rubbed her face on his red velvet shirt and you could almost hear her purr like a kitten.

Van stood close by your side and knocked his shoulder against your side. Someone said “Cheers!” and everyone raised the bottles and echoed the sentiment.

…

It was very late in the evening when you found yourself sitting on the curb with Van. He had traded in beer for water a while ago.

"You don't drink," he said in a statement. "You got lots in common with Bob,"

"Lots in common with Scotty. They have stuff in common. Guess it all makes sense," you replied.

Van nodded, then made a face you couldn't read. "We thought he fancied ya for a bit, when he first went to your work." The tone was an attempt at casual but it was masking something.

"It's not… He doesn't…"

"I know. I know now. He's dead quiet, he is, but I've known him forever so I still know what he's like around people. When we bumped into ya at the record store, could tell then. Like you said, you're a bit like Scotty, so I think Bob likes you being around. You're all… you know… normal and stuff,"

"Normal? Should I be offended by that?"

Van shook his head. "Nah, love. Normal ain't the same as boring or nothing like that. Just… maybe, like, calming? You just have your shit together or whatever. Like a proper grown up but in a good way. Anyway. I'm just saying… you and Bob make good friends."

It was a strange thing for him to point out and draw attention to and you weren't sure what he wanted you to say back.

"Guess that means you'll be seeing more of me then…" you said slowly.

"Well, we all got our burdens to bear."

He chuckled when you giggled, happy that you liked his teasing.

The air was getting colder by the minute and the fog was settling low on the street. Drunk people were running through it, making funny ghost sounds and yelping each time they collided. The beauty of the night reminded you of the guaranteed end, of daybreak only a few hours off.

"On that lovely note, I best be off. Work in a couple hours."

Van's face dropped and you watched him decide if he was going to ask if you were genuinely offended, which of course you were not. He came to the same conclusion.

"Guess puppies don't sleep all through the weekend," he replied.

"No, they don't. It's like they know it's Saturday morning too," you said with a smile. God, you loved puppies. Standing up, you looked down the street in the direction of your car. There was no need to go back inside; Bob had left not long after their band's set, so you didn't need to say goodbye to him.

"Walk you to your car?" Van asked, saving the moment. You grinned and nodded, letting him take your hand and thread his fingers through yours.

…

"Y/N! Visitor!" Andie's bubbly voice called through to the back.

"Let 'em through!"

You were sitting on the floor of the playroom, trying to teach a puppy how to fetch. She just outright refused to bring any toy back to you though. The door opened and the puppy immediately ran to the new, exciting person. She barked until he quietened her with a gentle, "Hush, love." You looked up and watched Van carry the puppy over to you. He sat down and grinned. "Hey, Y/N,"

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too. How are you, Van. Well, I'm good, thank you for askin' Y/N. How are you going?"

"Sorry. Hi. How are you?"

He laughed and threw a ball across the floor for the puppy to chase. Quickly, easily, she brought it right back to him. You swallowed a need to scoff and frown.

"Good, good. Was in the neighbourhood," Van replied with a casual shrug.

"The neighbourhood? What's in the neighbourhood that you were doing?"

Nothing. The shelter was on a piece of land a little out of the city. It took you forty minutes to drive there every day. Bob dropping by made sense; he had a nice car he liked to take on trips along the highway. Van didn't seem like the type to voluntarily waste almost an hour and a half just to say hello to someone he just met. But, there he was, sitting on the shelter floor playing with a puppy.

"What type is he?" he asked.

"She. And, ah, we don't know. A mix of something. Just a street dog. Or, she would've been. She's just a baby,"

"She's adorable."

There were the simultaneous sounds of the front doorbell and the phone. Leaving Van on puppy-sitting duty, you returned to the front and helped Andie. Twenty minutes later, when the messages were cleared from the phone and the box of unidentifiable eggs had been put somewhere safe and the services had been rung about it, you and Andie breathed out.

"People just leave all sorts of weird shit here. Honestly,"

"Remember that time we got the box of ferrets?" you replied.

"Yeah. Fuck. Anyway. What did that guy want? Bob's friend,"

"Fuck!" you said and dashed back to where you'd left Van.

He seemed to have no awareness of time. He was cackling like a child and trying to teach the puppy to sit on command. Van only briefly glanced up when you came back into the room.

"Look! She's the smartest puppy ever. I got a dog at home and I love her to bits, but she ain't good at tricks like this one is going to be," he said.

"I'm sorry I left you here. Had an egg emergency,"

"Dunno what that means, but it's okay. Me and Gloria been doin' good,"

"You've named her?" you asked with a grin. He smiled down at the puppy before scooping her up and bringing her over to you. He kissed her head then carefully put her in your arms.

"Yeah. Gloria 'cause she's glorious. Get it?"

Van followed you to the puppy pens and you watched him say goodbye to his new best friend. Back out in the front, you asked him what he had dropped by for, but a little more politely second time around.

"Ah, well, see I'm havin' this little get together this weekend. Thought you might wanna come. Bob will be there, and Olivia, who really liked you. She hates everyone, so that's gotta mean somethin', you know?"

"Are you only asking me in hopes I'll bring the puppy?" you replied.

You swapped numbers and wondered why you hadn't at their gig.

Van had parked close to the door. He had left his car unlocked, despite the dashboard being covered with CDs and what looked like t-shirts. He lit a cigarette as soon as he left the shelter and Andie told you later that he'd stood by his car smoking before he had come in.

"Did you hear what he said?" Andie asked. You looked over at her. "He said 'Bob will be there.' My money is still on him,"

"I told you-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's just that you and Bob are the exact same. I don't know much about this one, but he seems a bit more… of a mess," she said.

"He's less of a mess than he seems, and his mess is the good type. He spent that whole time playing with the new puppy. Taught her to sit," you replied in Van's defence. Andie looked at you with a smirk, then shrugged and walked off to do something useful.

…

There was no expectation for what Van's house would be like. You really couldn't predict it. Reality showed it was a cottage he shared with his best friend. It was clean and tidy, but undecorated or renovated. The bookshelves were stacked with vinyl records and football memorabilia. There were a few framed photos; you suspected they were gifts. The cottage was warm though. It had soul and life and felt more like a home than a house. Van welcomed you into it with open arms.

"Y/N! Happy you could make it!" he said when he opened the door. "What's this?"

"Ah, cake. Felt weird not bringing something…" you replied.

"Deffo didn't have to, but glad you did, love. Come on, let's give you the grand tour."

As you followed him through his house, stopping in the kitchen first to drop off your cake, you greeted the people you had met the weekend before and were introduced to anyone new. Most importantly though, was Van's dog. She came running up to him, no matter who she was with or how much attention she was getting. It was very clear to see she loved him the most. Van put her in your arms and because you were following him, she settled in happily. Every now and then she'd look up just to remind herself who she was with.

"Y/N. Not surprised you found the one animal here," Bob said when you found him out the back taking photos of people.

"Larry's on the piss well and truly, so don't think Mary's the most animal thing here," Van added. They laughed together and you wondered how fucked up Larry was going to be and what Larry was going to do.

Returning to the start, to the kitchen, Van asked about the cake.

"Have some! Please," you said with a nod. You watched him take off the container lid.

"Looks so good, Y/N. Should I cut it in any special way?"

"No. Go nuts."

And, he did. You watched laughing as Van and Larry ate almost the entire thing themselves. You picked up a little piece and gave it to Mary, who you had put down on the floor due to your aching arms. She lapped the cake up quick, did a little happy dog shimmy, and waited for more.

"Ain't cake bad for dogs? Make 'em sick?" Van asked, watching you feed her more.

"Depends what's in it. This is a banana cake and I made sure I only used natural stuff so that she could have some," you replied.

"You telling me you baked the cake for my dog?!" Van said, his voice high pitched and his sentence hooked up at the end. Mary looked at him, the sound distracting her from the cake for only a moment.

"Maybe. I knew I'd like her. Don't know if I like you lot though," you replied.

They both laughed and Larry hooked an arm around your shoulder. "Y/N. I think it's gonna be a good night."

Like a fortune teller or statistician, Larry was right about the future. All their friends were wonderful, and it was clear Van had only invited the best of the best into his home. Someone lit firecrackers and almost set fire to a neighbour's tree. When the banana cake ran out, someone offered to bake another using only what he could find in the cupboards and fridge. There was a seemingly endless supply of pizza. And, the music was the best soundtrack to a party you had ever heard.

Most of the night was spent with either Bob or Van. When you'd had enough chaos, you'd sit outside and have a D&M with Bob, or let him take your photo with Mary, as long as she was the star of them. Then, when you had calmed down, you'd find the lads and throw yourself into whatever mayhem they were cooking up. 

It was a little past two in the morning when you felt a wave of sleepiness and a need to return to the warm folds of your own bed and blankets. You found Bob making tea for people in the kitchen and bid him a goodnight, then looked for your marvellous hosts. Larry was passed out on the floor of the hallway, so you kissed his head and let him be. Van was in the lounge room, high as fuck and spacing out to Bowie.

"Van?" you asked, bending down to look him directly in the eye. "Van? I'm going. Thank you for having me," you said.

Slowly, very, very slowly, he grinned and nodded once. "Thannnnnnnnk you, you pretty thing," he replied, his hand rising and reaching out to you. Whatever he was aiming to do it with lost on you and probably him. So, you took it and kissed it like a knight would a princess.

"Goodnight,"

"Noooooooooo," he whined. "Stay. Stay 'ere."

Van patted the seat next to him and frowned. You laughed and stood up straight. "Next time we'll do a slumber party, yeah?" You turned around and waved to the other stoners in the room. "Catch you guys later." Some waved back, some smiled.

One last look at a sulky-faced Van and you left the house.

…

The lights were off. The blinds were down. The rain was pouring and pouring. You were a second away from grabbing your bag and leaving work for the day, but then a knock at the door. It had been a couple of days since the party and those days were incredibly busy, to say the least. Groaning loudly, you walked to the front door and cursed yourself for letting Andie leave early. You rolled the blind up and standing on the front step, drenched from head to toe, was Van McCann. Quickly, you unlocked and let him in.

"Van! What are you doing?!" you said loudly, like the rain somehow could have gone into his ears and prevented him from hearing you properly.

"Ah…" he started to say, but stopped when he looked at you. You looked back. His white shirt was see-through and his stupid messy hair was even messy, stuck down the sides of his freckled face in curly patterns.

"Let me get you a towel. Come on," you said, needing to break the tension.

Van followed you out the back. You handed him one of the clean towels from the pile and tried to not watch him rub it all over his face and head and clothes like a child would. He didn't move with logic or a plan.

"Sorry,"

"You're okay. Not your fault it's raining. Um. What are you doing here?" you replied.

He handed the towel over and you threw it in the laundry hamper. Van opened his mouth to speak, but seemingly got stuck on which words to say. His face was all scrunched up in a strange mix of happy and confused. "Two things, actually," he finally said. "Things I should've done when I first thought of 'em,"

"Are you gonna adopt Gloria?!" you squeaked immediately, your hands going to your mouth where you held them in hope.

Van looked at you with pure astonishment. He didn't think you'd work out his 'cryptic' reply.

In the puppy room, Van was like a kid in a candy store. "How am I gonna just take one?" You let him hold all the puppies that were people-friendly and people-ready. They licked at his face and he let them. "Can we let them run wild?" he asked, bright-eyed and positively glowing.

"No! They'll pee everywhere! One at a time. And stop getting them all hyped up," you said in a tone that was horribly mother-like.

When he got to the end of the line, Gloria was waiting. She recognised him from their brief interaction. As soon as Van picked her up, she rolled over and rested her head across his arms. Her eyes closed and she was at home.

"See? Should have just taken her home from the start," Van whispered.

You nodded and motioned for him to follow you out of the room. The other puppies and dogs settled down quickly when they were left alone. In one of the 'interview' rooms, you had Van put Gloria on the table and you ran final checks. He filled out the paperwork and you signed off.

"She's very lucky you came back for her," you said when you were back in the front room.

The one open blind let you see out into the evening. The rain had died down and Van had parked right next to the front door. Gloria wouldn't get wet. You could spot a big plastic tub in the back seat of his car. It was probably filled with blankets and was probably a makeshift puppy pen. Not entirely safe, but you could imagine driving so, so slowly on his way home with his new bundle of joy.

"Think Mary will like her? My other dog?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know Mary super well, but she's pretty chill. If you introduce them right and everything it should be fine,"

"Yeah. I did a bit of reading online, and me mum is at my house now to help," he said.

"I'm glad you planned this. It's not impulsive,"

"Nah, it's not. I am a bit impulsive, so this is…"

"Rare?" you finished for him. Van nodded. There was nothing else left to say then. He had what he came for. Then, you remembered. "What was the other thing?" you asked. He looked up from Gloria to you with his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "When you got here. You said there were two things you came for?"

A signature Van grin broke out and it was ear to ear. He nodded and if the room was lit properly, you would have seen the pink tinge of his cheeks go darker. Maybe he was about to say something, maybe not, but Gloria made a cute sleeping puppy sound that drew your attention from Van to her. You stepped closer to pat her ears and generally just muse over the sweetness of her. As you looked up, you met Van's eyes. Then he just leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was barely-there light but lasted a couple of seconds. When you said nothing, did nothing, he grinned again.

"Sorry. Do I taste like dog?" he asked.

You burst out laughing, which woke Gloria up and sent her into a fit of barks and licks. You watched him fuss over her yet again, then told him he needed to get her home.

"You get it though, right? I came to see you… to like, ask you out."

He had the whole thing planned. Show up unannounced. Be cute as fuck with puppies. Save one. Then swoop in. Kiss. Mic drop. Done. It was a plan that would make anyone weak at the knees. Then, he ruined it the way you ruin a joke, by explaining what didn't need explanation. But, that was a very Van thing to do.

You nodded and replied, "Yeah. Yep. I got it,"

"Okay. Good. 'Cause I-"

"Van. Van. Stop talking. Take the puppy and go. Message me, okay?" you said, gently pushing him towards the front door. Gloria licked your fingers.

"So we can go on a proper date? This mean you like me too?"

"Oh my God. Van. Yes. Go now."

And you closed the door on him and watched him carefully put Gloria in his car as it started to rain again. He went to light a smoke and get in his car, but paused. His choice was to stand in the rain to smoke and get drenched again, or smoke in the car with his new puppy. Neither were good options, so he put the carton and lighter back in his pocket and turned around to you. You nodded at him in approval and he blew you a kiss in reply. You watched him back out of the lot and turn onto the street before picking up your bag and finally leaving the shelter for the night.

When you were home and after you had showered, you settled down with a bowl of potato tots and checked your phone for the first time since leaving work. There were messages from Van. Many, many messages. Dozens of photos of Gloria and Mary and a woman who you presumed was Van's mother. Larry made the odd appearance too. Then, there were the selfies. Oh, the selfies. You had never known love until you had seen photos of Van with his arms stretched out to accommodate the happy faces of two doggos. With a complete overuse of the dog emoji and the red love heart emoji, you replied to him a little before midnight.

Think our 1st date should be to the aquarium to see the seals coz they r like water dogs innit he wrote back straight away.

You shook your head and made a note in your phone to call your cousin. Scotty would be happy that Bob had been a good photographer and had been able to hook you up with someone on a more permanent basis. His reaction to you and Van though, well that was a little unpredictable, much like puppies on the loose and most things Van did.


End file.
